


pygmalion and galatea

by rare_cat_meme



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Historical References, Humor, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, gay spite, kun needs more respect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-17 13:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rare_cat_meme/pseuds/rare_cat_meme
Summary: It’s not Hendery’s fault, really, not this time. He’s been good nowadays, staying in the studio, making art, being gay, you know, the usual. Maybe it's a side effect of hanging out with wacky artists that destruction just follows him wherever, whenever.or the inevitable bond between art and the artist.





	pygmalion and galatea

It’s not Hendery’s fault, really, not  _ this _ time. He’s been good nowadays, staying in the studio, making art, being gay, you know, _ the usual. _ Maybe it's a side effect of hanging out with wacky artists that destruction just follows him wherever, whenever.

"Explain to me," Kun says with the sweetest, most terrifying tone Hendery has ever heard, "Why you accepted a commission of a critic who  _ hates _ you?"

Yeah, _ about that. _

"Uh," Hendery eloquently delivers, "Spite?"

Kun brings a hand to his forehead and mutters to himself something about hating this job and how  _ gay spite is gonna be the death of me. _

"Hendery," he says as he puts a hand on each side of Hendery's face. If Kun says  _ 'you're an idiot sandwich' _ he  _ can _ and  _ will _ cry. "Do you realize that you're being set to fail? You could deliver an Olympus worthy masterpiece and this guy is going to read you to filth regardless!"

Well, first of all, this is not  _ Rupaul's Drag Race, _ no reads shall be done or this critic would be in trouble cause Hendery is the king of reads in his group of friends and Donghyuck is in it,  _ so.  _

"That's funny," Hendery says with poorest attempt at changing the mood, "His commission was for the statue of the perfect man."

Kun turns around, squating into a fetus position and screams. Hendery scrunches his face in mild concern, wondering if Kun has insurance for psychological damage.

"It's gonna be okay," he says as he pats Kun's back, "I already started working on it". Kun's eyes follow his finger, pointing towards blob of wax. 

"I have a daughter to feed, you can't put me on the line like this," Kun says through gritted teeth.

"Bollocks, Susan would back me up any day," Hendery counters with a pout.

"Susan is a two year old cat that is unable to speak, she has no say in this," Kun stabs a finger in Hendery's chest as he poorly mimics Kun. "Sort yourself out!"

Kun leaves the studio without looking back, and that's probably for the best because if he faltered, he might have had asked for resignation.

-

“How bad can it be? He literally commissioned like 20 different artists with the same concept, maybe he’s just trying to be nicer or something,” Hendery shrugs, a glass of red wine in hand as he lounges ungracefully on Renjun’s couch. Beside him, Xiaojun coughs. “What?”

“Not to kill your vibe, but doesn’t that sound lowkey suspicious?” he frowns at his own glass of wine. Renjun, who’s sitting on the love seat, nods. “It’s just...this guy went out of his way so many times just to shit on your work and now he’s like  _ ‘uwu Hendery make me the perfect man’ _ ,” Xiaojun explains, a hint of frustration in his tone. 

“I agree,” Renjun steps in, “Usually I’d be up for gay spite, but this just seems fishy,”  _ Yeah, that’s basically your brand, _ Hendery thinks as he looks around Renjun’s living room filled with posters and paintings he did throughout the years.  _ ‘All I want for Christmas is to seize the means of production’ _ reads his favorite one, with a very detailed portrait of Marx with a Santa Claus hat and a thought bubble with images of hunky looking men ignoring factory work, giving each other lewd looks instead. He ends up shrugging.

“We’ll see, for now I’m just gonna do it,” he sips from the glass carefully, “The drama may actually be beneficial, who knows? _ ‘Gay artist is slandered by critic on purpose’ _ , the gays would have my back!”

Renjun and Xiaojun look mildly unimpressed, but refrain from adding further fuel to the fire. Maybe it’s the fact that Hendery is already in quite a tipsy state, maybe it’s just his flawless logic  _ (who knows?) _ , but the conversation moves on to the whatever has been going on between Renjun and his latest Tinder hit.

The night goes by faster than Hendery would like, but that’s what you get for having fun. As he gets to his own tiny, one bedroom apartment, he sits down on the kitchen table with his sketchbook, laying down ideas for his commission. _ The perfect man. _ It sounds like a cliché. Most people probably think back to ancient Greece, the athletes with perfectly sculpted bodies, every muscle defined, toned, built to perfection.  _ The male body at it’s peak performance. _ Hendery sits back and thinks about Medieval Europe, _ those sick, funky bastards. _ It would be really funny to make a really proportionally fucked up man, an ode to the great unknown artists that graced the Dark Ages. He writes down a note, which will probably be unreadable by tomorrow because he’s drunk and indulging himself.

_ Gay spite, _ he thinks,  _ who did gay spite like no one else did? _ His eyes fall on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles poster that Xiaojun gifted him saying it was their artist squad. Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael and Michelangelo.  _ Wait, Michelangelo, a prime example of gay spite! _ Running to his laptop, Hendery opens a folder, surfing through every single statue he can find that Michelangelo ever touched. 

As the sun rises, Hendery’s eyes feel heavy, but his mind is full and his heart has been hammering his ribcage from the inside, the excitement begging to jump out. He passes out next to the computer, the birds chirping outside and Michelangelo’s  _ David _ slowly fading out to his screensaver. 

-

It takes two to tango. For Hendery, he’s the lead, the tools are his partner and the wax is the music. Together they perform to no one but themselves, and their union makes the final masterpiece. Kun has no idea what this means, but he always smiles and nods when Hendery explains the dynamic over and over again. It’s ok though, comprehension is not always a need in art field, at least not for Hendery. 

He met Kun just as he was finishing his degree in Fine Arts. He was young, reckless and, honestly,  _ kind of stupid, _ but Kun saw all the potential he was filled to the brim with and ran with it. It was half luck, half Hendery being really freaking good at what he does, but Kun managed to put him in the spotlight, bringing commissions and giving Hendery the artist status he was desperately looking for. They’re a good team, the chemistry works out. Kun is like Hendery’s older brother that he can count for whenever. 

“Don’t worry, even if this is supposed to flop, it won’t, I got our backs covered,” Hendery assures. Kun sighs on the other side of the phone.

_ “I’m going to trust you on this one, but please, if at any point you think it’s gonna go to shit, let me know.” _

-

Eight weeks pass, most lived in Hendery’s tiny studio, dedicating every single second of his day to the perfect man. Necessary? Probably not, but goddamn, if he’s not proud of looking at every single tiny, intricate detail he dented into it. Hendery knows he’s good, but this time he really outdid himself. 

The perfect man is just about 1,80 meters, wide shoulders, toned muscles in his arms that fade to large hands. His face is a mix of sweet and round with sharp features. The eyes are big, the nose is long  _ (and really fucking boopable) _ and the mouth is big with full lips. He names it Lucas, from Greek, patron of the doctors, artists and creatives. 

-

“Good morning,” Renjun says cheerfully as he drops a plate full of pancakes on top of Hendery’s kitchen table.

“Fuck you,” Hendery’s voice sounds muffled. He lifts his head from the table top to give Renjun a distasteful look. He gets a smile back. The clock marks four in the afternoon.

It’s opening night. In a couple hours  _ Perfect: The Ultimate Collection _ will open doors to the public for the first time. Hendery is _ totally _ not freaking out. Things have been running smoothly.  _ Too smoothly. _ His arch nemesis has been way too nice, especially for someone who actually wants to pay him in exchange for artwork he seemingly hated six months ago. While working on the piece it didn’t matter, but now with some distance Renjun and Xiaojun’s point seems more and more relevant.

“Dude,” Renjun’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “Eat something, you gotta get ready.” Renjun observes him, a dash of concern in his eyes. Hendery, shakes his head at him, deflecting. Renjun rolls his eyes, but doesn’t ask. 

Shoving a mouthful of pancakes down his throat, Hendery’s mind wanders to his sculpture.  _ Ah, Lucas, how I wish you were real. _ It was hard looking at the wax mush he put together and pretend he wasn’t massivale attracted to it, specially after all the research pictures of good looking hunky man. Hendery is a single person, he cannot handle all this attractiveness at once. He starts feeling sad, knowing he can only see Lucas at the gallery, but his pity party is cut short when Renjun walks in with an outfit in hand.  _ When did he leave the room? _

“My dearest,” he says with a threatening smile. Hendery gulps. “If you’re not ready in half an hour I will delete your carefully curated folder of artsy porn.” 

-

_ Perfect: The Ultimate Collection _ is held at a fancy gallery in the downtown area. One square meter of space must cost more than the four years of Fine Arts Hendery did. Yeah, his palms are sweaty. There’s a total of ten pieces, ten artists and a couple dozens of people going around, stopping to observe  _ (and pretend they know what the fuck they’re doing) _ . Lucas is doing amazing (sweetie), Hendery can tell by the awe in the faces of those who pass by  _ The Perfect Man. Mission accomplished. _

Decked in his best navy blue suit, hair swept to the side and shiny dress shoes, Hendery stands by one of the uncuppied walls, champagne flute in hand. He feels awfully lonely, and honestly, he knows the look doesn’t suit him. His group of friends had visited, always ready to support. But it’s been almost four hours since the opening and Hendery did tell them to go home. Problem is, only the boring old aristocrats remain, only interested in the possibility of buying art for random clout. Hendery rolls his eyes at the thought.  _ Well, at least artist can get some money. _

He walks around the gallery, once again. All the other artists selected are way more established than he is. It brings a certain joy as well as some fear. He swallows it down and carries on walking. The gallery is slowly emptying out, mostly the artists staying behind. Picking up a new full flute of champagne, Hendery sits on the bench on the corner, watching the remaining crowd with sleepy eyes. His blinking gets increasingly slower, lazier and the soft conversation noise slowly luls him to sleep.

-

“Mm, stop,” Hendery mumbles, eyes closed. Something keeps banging against the glass door but Hendery pays no mind to it. That is, until he feels his shoulders being lightly gripped.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a deep soft voice echoes. Hendery thinks it’s a nice voice, he even smiles to himself, thinking it’s a product of his dream. But the shaking keeps going. 

Slowly he opens his eyes. His vision is fuzzy and the lights are too dimmed down for him to make out what’s currently happening. A couple blinks reveal a man. Hendery gasps surprised, instantly getting up and putting some distance. As his vision gets clearer, the more freaked out he is. It’s not just a man. It’s Lucas. He gasps loudly, tumbling down to the floor. Lucas’ big eyes blink at him confused.

“What the fuck,” Hendery says through gritted teeth, “No, no, no, I’m dreaming.”

“Uh,” Lucas emits. 

“I drank too much,” he says, shaking his head violently, “Yes, I drank too much, you’re not real, you’re not real.”

The glass door bangs again. Hendery looks at it, only to scream when he spots a man trying to open it. His heart can’t take it, and he passes out.

-

If it’s a couple hours or minutes later, Hendery is unsure, but he wakes up to two men looking down at him concerned.

“Yukhei, I think he’s awake,” the man who was trying to break in says, a tone of relief in his voice.  _ Yukhei?  _

“Thank God, I thought he had a heart attack,” Lucas breathes out, “Can’t scare me like that Guanheng.” Whom?

“What?”

“Oh,” Lucas looks like a deer caught in headlights. The other guy slaps his own face and groans.

“He doesn’t remember, he never does.”

Lucas looks disappointed but nods.

“I know, it’s just,” he sighs, but doesn’t finish his thought. 

“What the fuck is going on,” Hendery whispers.

Lucas and the guy share a look and the guy nods at Lucas.

“Uhm, so,” Lucas starts eloquently, “Hi, I’m Yukhei and I’m your designated soulmate since like, uh, somewhere in the early BCs. Can’t quite place the date, it’s been a couple reincarnations,” he laughs softly, but Hendery can sense the nervousness. “This is Sicheng, we met on our third round and he’s been with me ever since.”

“”I’m the bodyguard,” Sicheng says proudly.

Hendery’s last two braincells are having a proper tantrum.  _ Soulmate? Early BCs? Reincarnation?  _

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Yukhei  _ (Lucas?) _ says with a comforting smile, “But don’t worry, it’s always been like this. You don’t remember, I tell you what I remember and yeah. Ask away.”

The clock marks 2am. Hendery is sitting on the floor of a gallery, listening to two strange men, one of which is his artwork, telling him that he and his soulmate have been reincarnating for thousands of years.  _ Wack. _ Still, there’s a tiny part of his brain (that one fucking delusional braincell) that says  _ ‘yeah, why not?’. _

“How the fuck do you reincarnated from a fucking sculpture?” he spills out, filters out the window.

“Well,” Yukhei starts, “It’s a long story. Everytime we restart the details get fuzzier and fuzzier. The pattern is always the same, you’re the artist and I’m the art.” He scratches his head as he pauses. “I think our first time was in Greece. You were a sculptor and at some point you made me. I think I was a female,” Lucas shrugs, as if it’s not important, “You wished so hard I was real that one day I just _ was. _ Probably some greek god bullshit.” The dismissive tone almost covers how vague the story is.

“Huh.”

“We were quite happy in that time,” Yukhei chuckles. “Compared to the next, you were unknown in the bussiness and I was too late.” Hendery doesn’t ask for Yukhei to elaborate.

“Tragic,” Hendery says, unsure of what to add to the conversation. Yukhei laughs, and his heart flutters a bit. It’s familiar.

“You’re always so awkward,” he smiles warmly, “Cute.” Hendery looks away, face flushed.

“Shut up,” he says unconvincingly. The clock marks 3am. “We should probably get out of here.” Yukhei and Sicheng shrug, observing Hendery for leadership.

Grabbing his phone, he texts Renjun and Kun -  _ meet at my apartment NOW SOS. _ Renjun is the only one who answers _ ‘on my way’ _ , but he knows they’ll all be there. 

-

  
  


The streets are empty, an occasional driver passes by, but other than that Hendery is at ease. He can feel Yukhei’s grin next to him and it makes him slightly nervous. This man is his soulmate. Hendery has a pre-destined companion since fucking Ancient Greece. Yukhei’s smile turns smug and he turns mischievous.

“My favourite reincarnation was during medieval Europe,” he says vaguely.

“Why?” Hendery squints at him, suspicious.

“We were both monks,” Yukhei smile turns cheeky, “It was quite fun. No one questioned when you were just like ‘Here’s our new brother’. Little did they know you drew an incredibly correct anatomic man.” They laugh together

_ Artist, art brought to life? Holy shit- _

“Oh my God, Yukhei,” Hendery splutters, “Pygmalion.” He slaps Yukhei’s arm (‘auch’). “Pygmalion and Galatea.”

Yukhei looks confused. Hendery curses internally for Yukhei not knowing art History and therefore being unable to place their reincarnations accurately.

“Pygmalion was sculptor in Ancient Greece,” Sicheng offers as he walks calmly behind them, “Galatea was his sculpture of his perfect woman, who ended up becoming human.”

“Oh, cool,” Yukhei says, and Hendery hates how endearing it is.  _ Damn you soulmate. _

-

Renjun is waiting for them at the entrance of Hendery’s building. He squints at Hendery’s companion, his face showing the wheels turning in his brain. When they’re close enough, he can hear it.

_ “What the fuck, what fuck, what the fuck,” _ Renjun says on loop. Hendery grabs him by the shoulders.

_ “It’s a long story bitch.” _

-

It’s past 4am by the time Hendery, with the help of Yukhei and Sicheng, re tells the tale of the night - and their other reincarnations. Renjun, sitting cross legged on the corner of the couch, sisp from his mug of tea.

“I’m-,” he says and pauses immediately.

“I know,” Hendery tells him. They nod at each other.

“So, Yukhei,” Renjun turns to him, “Was Hendey ever a cool artist or is he just destined to be an unknown background kinda guy?”

Yukhei hums, looking around the room. His eyes pause on David.

“I was that dude once,” he points with a nod of his head, “I remember you bitching about the chapel.”

The room goes silent. There’s a knock at the door and the keys turn.

“There better be a goddamn good reason for you to need me at this hour,” Kun’s voice sounds from the entrance hall.

_ “Kun,” _ screeches Renjun,  _ “Hendery was fucking Michelangelo!” _

Footsteps make their way to the kitchen and Kun’s head pops out through the door. He’s preparing himself to send Renjun a disapproving look, but when he spots Yukhei all color drains from his face.

-

“I got a call from the gallery security,” Kun says, his hands trembling, “They reported your piece missing.” He stares at Yukhei, still unaccustomed to the living breathing version of him.

“Fuck,” Hendery looks at Kun in hopes of finding a quick solution, “How do we-” Kun gets up, pacing around the room. Beside him, Yukhei grabs his hand, gently squeezing. Hendery faces him to find a concerned expression.

“Hendery, ” Yukhei whispers, “We have to go back to the gallery.”

“What- why?” 

He points at the clock. Just past 5am.

“He’s gonna turn back into wax,” Sicheng explains from his seat, “He’s only human at night.”

“We haven’t figured out how to stay human,” Yukhei’s face looks pained.

“We gotta take him back,” Kun adds, gently but his tone final.

Hendery is swarmed by questions and an overwhelming dread. There’s so much more he needs to know; who is Yukhei now?; who else have they been?; were they ever together forever?

-

Kun ends up taking Yukhei back to the gallery. Sicheng stays back and Hendery offers him the guest bedroom on his apartment. He watches Hendery collect all the mugs used after everyone left.

“Do you feel it?” he whispers quietly, his hand pointing towards his chest. Hendery nods, it’s the dread, yes, he feels it. “We’re gonna fix it, I promise.” Hendery nods again, sitting back on the couch and sighing loudly.

“What about you?” he asks, partly to distract himself, part curious, “Do you have a soulmate in your reincarnations?”

Sicheng looks away with a small smile.

“Sometimes,” he offers, a little twinkle in his eye. Hendery gasps.

“Who, where when? Did you meet them today?”

“All in due time, Hendery,” he speaks calmly, “This has been a big puzzle in the making, you know.”

Hendery nods, but no, _ he doesn’t know, he remembers none of the reincarnations. _

“I think, this might be the one,” Sicheng offers elusively, “Maybe, we’ll see.”

Hendery huffs, feeling defeated. Sicheng laughs.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. There’s so much for you to find out.” he says before retreating out of the living room.

Full of thoughts, Hendery opens his laptop, typing  _ ‘life of Michelangelo’ _ on google. The light outside begins to pour out. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> aaa hi hello, i hope u enjoyed that  
so this is a //intro// to this universe, i wanted to write a lot more but it was hard with the deadlines  
SO, this has more to come, worry not !!  
yell with me on [twt](https://twitter.com/ridikunlous)


End file.
